


The Shared Milestone

by NotManTheLessButNatureMore



Series: I Love You [10]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Ilsa and Nick deserve all of the children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 04:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17615225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotManTheLessButNatureMore/pseuds/NotManTheLessButNatureMore
Summary: “Firstly, King Lear is a great play and secondly, you wanted the name Ophelia for a girl.”Because I’ve waited far too long to give the Herbert family an additional member.





	The Shared Milestone

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little something that popped into my head a while ago and I thought tonight was as good a time as any to get it down on ‘paper’. I’m currently working on a multi chapter fic (much darker than this) but I want to wait until it’s completely finished before I start posting it (because I have a terrible attention span and don’t want to leave you guys hanging).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little drabble and once again thank you for kudos/comments. This is a wonderfully supportive community. :)

“Would you relax!” Robin said as she grabbed Strike’s elbow and steered him in the right direction.

 

“No.” He said with a scowl causing Robin to laugh.

 

“You’d swear you were on the way to the gallows.” Robin whispered as she pulled him closer. He grunted and passed the blue gift bag in his hand to her.

 

“I don’t like hospitals.” He announced as they spotted a sign and turned left.

 

“Oh sure.” Robin mumbled as she fixed the ribbon that had been smushed by Strike’s hand.

 

“Who likes them? You always come out with something missing or something unwanted.” He scowled at her.

 

“Nothing to do with this being a maternity hospital?”

 

Strike looked down and glowered at her, albeit with a playful edge. She slipped her hand into his and pulled him closer, resting her head against his arm for a moment.

 

They had been woken at 5am that morning by a delirious and ecstatic Nick who had declared that Ilsa had given birth to an 8 pound, 22 inch baby boy, as yet unnamed. Robin and Strike had sat up in bed listening with the phone held between them as Nick babbled about tiny fingers and tiny toes. Strike had somehow managed to convince Robin not to turn up at the hospital the very minute visiting hours started. Instead Robin had lasted until the afternoon, with the help of updates and pictures sent by Ilsa, and then refused to do any more work. Strike had agreed to the visit on the off chance that it might stop Nick from sending him pictures of the baby taken from every possible angle.

 

“What room did he say?” Strike asked as they arrived on the ward Nick had directed them to.

 

“Fifteen.” Strike could hear the excitement in her voice with just that one word.

 

They walked into the main corridor on the ward and were instantly hit by the wail of a baby from nearby. Strike had imagined Nick and Ilsa’s baby as a quiet object buried beneath blankets by the side of the bed. They’d talk, Strike would congratulate his friends and then watch from a comfortable distance as Ilsa and Robin cooed over the baby. The thought of pushing open the door to find a screaming baby and anxious parents made him regret agreeing to the visit. You have to meet the kid at some point, he told himself.

 

“Here we are.” Robin said and was suddenly pulling him through the door.

 

Nick was by the end of the bed with a muslin cloth thrown over one shoulder and his phone in his hand, ready for yet another shot of their new family member Strike thought.

 

“You’re gonna run out of space on your phone before it’s a week old.” Strike said as Nick turned and smiled widely at him.

 

“Did you just call my son ‘it’?” Nick said, but was unable to muster any offended glare. Instead he walked over to Strike and wrapped his arms tightly around his old friend.

 

“Oh Ilsa.” Robin exclaimed, sounding emotional already, from where she was stood beside the bed. Nick stepped away from Strike to reveal Ilsa, who was sitting on the bed with one shoulder of her dressing gown pulled down and the baby feeding away. Strike looked from the baby to Ilsa to the ceiling and felt his cheeks colour.

 

“It’s not a burlesque show Corm.” Ilsa snickered at his expense and then passed the baby to Nick to burp. Robin’s eyes followed the baby as she leaned down to hug Ilsa and pass her the gift bag. Strike kissed Ilsa on the cheek and then watched as Nick held the baby close and patted his back. He looked like a natural, Strike thought, and a proud smile spread across his face.

 

“Nick, look!” Ilsa was holding up the sleepsuit that Robin had rushed out and bought the weekend after Nick and Ilsa had told them they were expecting. It had Sherlock Holmes written across the front and magnifying glasses printed all over it. The choice of sleepsuit had even gotten a laugh from Strike when Robin had bounded into their flat and pulled it from her shopping bag with a look of pure happiness on her face.

 

“Nice one Robin.” Nick said.

 

“How’d you know I didn’t buy it?” Strike said with mock offense.

 

“I think you shopping for baby clothes is a sign of the apocalypse Oggy mate.”

 

“Ha ha.” Strike said as he watched Nick move the baby from his shoulder into the crook of his arm. The baby gave a short squawk and then yawned widely and Nick looked up at Strike.

 

“Do you want to hold him?” Nick asked quietly and Strike’s eyes widened. He’d held Jack once when he was a month old and that was only because aunt Joan had guilted him into it because he was leaving soon for another tour.

 

“What? No, I’m-“

 

“Oh go on Cormoran.” Robin said as she walked over. Strike gave her a look of betrayal.

 

“I can’t, I had a smoke before I came in. The smell - it wouldn’t be good for him.”

 

“Well take your coat off then.” Ilsa said from the bed. He looked at all three of them and then reluctantly took his coat off and threw it on the chair behind him.

 

Nick moved closer and Strike suddenly felt very awkward in his own body. He held his hands out and realised how large they were in comparison to the tiny body that was being moved towards him. Nick held the baby towards him and Strike placed a hand under each armpit and then with a quick prayer lifted him up. He felt almost too light, as if he could fall right through Strike’s hands. He could feel his little body squirm slightly and then his head started to roll back.

 

“Watch his-“ Robin loudly warned.

 

“Got it.” Strike raised his fingers to stabilize the baby’s neck and felt his soft skin brush against him as the little head leaned back against his fingers. He had a full head of hair, something he’d have to slag Nick about later, and now that Strike looked closer his nose resembled Ilsa’s.

 

“He’s not infectious, you can hold him closer.” Nick said and Strike realised he was still holding the baby out in front of him at arms length.

 

“Alright. Christ, you’re not half bossy now that you’re a parent.”

 

“Language.” Robin said as she moved closer to him. Strike hugged the baby to his chest and started to relax slightly as his movements slowed, he looked down to see that the baby had one open palm pressed against his chest and the other in his mouth. Robin reached out and gently stroked the tiny fingers sprawled on Strike’s chest.

 

“He’s beautiful. Just like his mum.” Robin said with a beaming smile to Ilsa.

 

“As long as he’s got his father’s brains.” Nick said.

 

“Mm, sure.” Ilsa replied with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I’m so happy for you two. You’ve waited so long.” Robin said, her eyes now glued to the sleeping baby. Nick walked over and kissed Ilsa on the top of her head.

 

Feeling a foot move against his stomach, Strike watched as the baby nuzzled his face against his shirt. Something felt different this time. He had sat in a chair holding Jack against his stomach counting the seconds until Lucy fussed and reclaimed her son, but now as he watched the little movements and twitches coming from his friends’ child he couldn’t help but think of small movements before this. He looked at Ilsa, who looked tired but beautiful, and remembered the time she’d had a few too many glasses of wine and while Nick had gone to collect their takeaway she’d told him with tears in her eyes about another negative pregnancy test. He looked at Nick and saw no trace of the doubt or self loathing he’d detected when Nick had passed some time by his hospital bed telling him how they’d been trying for a year without success. Then he looked at Robin, her own eyes were soft and a smile was playing at her lips as she gripped the baby’s wrist with her thumb and forefinger, rubbing small circles across the pale pink skin.

 

“He’s got his godfather’s height.” Nick said.

 

Strike and Robin looked at each other and then at the new parents, both of whom had their eyebrows raised in expectance.

 

“I-“ Strike started but Ilsa interrupted.

 

“We know you’re not going to be bringing him on play dates and you probably won’t want to talk to him until he can hold a conversation about the footie-“

 

“He’s not supporting Arsenal by the way.” Nick piped in.

 

“-But, we also know that no matter the time or the place if he needed you you’d be there. And that’s what’s important.”

 

Three pairs of eyes watched Strike as he looked back down at the baby.

 

“As long as you know I’m a terrible influence?”

 

“Known and accepted.” Nick said.

 

“I guess it’d be alright then.”

 

“Don’t get too excited.” Robin said as he felt her hand on his waist. She mouthed the words ‘I love you’ to him and Strike responded with a kiss to her forehead.

 

“Suppose if the little guy ever needs work experience-“ Strike began to suggest.

 

“-no way! I’ve seen the amount of injuries you and Robin have got.” Ilsa countered sharply. All four of them smiled and Nick sat down heavily on the end of the bed, the long night and morning catching up with him.

 

“So, any update on the name?” Robin asked.

 

“Oh don’t!” Ilsa sighed in exasperation.

 

“What? Edmund is a nice name.” Nick said animatedly.

 

“And I suppose if we have another you’ll want to call him Edgar.”

 

“Firstly, King Lear is a great play and secondly, you wanted the name Ophelia for a girl.”

 

“What about Hamlet?” Robin offered with a smile. Ilsa and Nick both turned and looked at Robin as if she’d grown another head. Robin blushed and Strike laughed before looking at her, reminded of how lucky he was.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from them.” Strike whispered into his godson’s ear.


End file.
